SOLDIER’S WIFE IN THE AFTERMATH
After the great war I stepped inside
to make sourdough bread.
That’s when you vanished, mi amor.
Last I saw, you were inside the cathedral
gnawing on a wooden pew.
I still dream about you.
Why, last night the two of us
were transporting a gigantic, precious sow
tawny and maned like a lion,
in the back of a blue truck.
Hallelujah! I slap my thigh
just thinking about it.